Faramir's Chance
by iana silmir
Summary: Faramir is chosen for the Fellowship after Boromir is injured in the recapture of Osgiliath. How will the young Ranger fare so far away from home without his big brother? AU, nonslash.
1. A Chance to show His quality

For some strange reason, I can't get rid of this giant space above here; every time I try to delete it, the font and size of the text changes... Strange...

This is my first attempt at a story in third person; I hope it's okay... I wanted a story where Faramir takes Boromir's place in the Fellowship, so the plot moght have to be twisted a couple of times to make things work.

This is not a 'Evil Denethor' fic; I don't like the portrayal of his character in the films, and so we now have a 'Nice Denethor'... well, nice enough for now; he might go a bit crazy later when he starts using the Palantir more often...

Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think!

* * *

**Faramir's Chance**

**Chapter One: A Chance to Show His Quality**

"Boromir!"

"Boromir!" The crowd of warriors yelled again, raising their sword, and bows, and all other weapons that had been used in the battle just passed.

The sun shone brightly behind the blonde head, reflecting from silver armour as the man, whose name rang over the once magnificent city of Osgiliath, jabbed the end of a standard between the rocks of the ruined wall he stood upon and raised his own sword high into the air. His green eyes astutely surveying the army that stood below him, Boromir rallied his men.

"This city, was once the jewel of our Kingdom," he cried, looking across the crowd, "A place of light, and beauty, and music; and so it shall be once more!" The crowd cheered, and the white flag of the Steward of Gondor flapped in the breeze; the same breeze that played with Boromir's un-helmeted locks, a fact that endeared him to his fellow soldiers. He waited for the noise to die slightly before continuing.

"Let the armies of Mordor know this;" Boromir's voice rose as he entreated the men to agree with him, "Never again will the land of my people fall into enemy hands!" More, louder cheering ensued, "This city of Osgiliath has been reclaimed; for Gondor!"

"For Gondor!" the men repeated, throwing their heart and souls into the shout.

"For Gondor!" Boromir yelled, his sword stabbing the air.

"For Gondor!"

"For Gondor!"

"For Gondor!!!"

* * *

He pushed his way through the men - closely followed by his bodyguard and second-in-command, Anborn - smiling and nodding to them, even exchanging a couple of words with the ones he knew by name. It could never be said that Faramir did not care for his men; he was generous and compassionate, the commander of the Ithilien Company - Gondor's elite forces; some would even say too compassionate… 

His target was almost within reach and Faramir's face lit up with a smile, his indigo eyes lighting up; he threw himself into the arms of his brother and held him close, in that way that warriors have when they know that they've managed to survive _again_, and are reunited with those they love.

"Good speech; nice and short," Faramir remarked with an expressionless face as he pulled himself away; Boromir grinned and his brother broke out into another one of his charming smiles, the ones that tend to catch you off guard and fill you with warmth fight down to your toes…

"Leaves more time for drinking!" The brothers and Anborn burst into laughter, Boromir's trademark humour escaping from its closely guarded cage, "Break out the ale! These men are thirsty!" The men surrounding them cheered in delight as kegs of ale were pulled out of the storerooms and taps hammered into them. Boromir took two silver goblets and filled them up, handing one to Faramir.

"Remember today, little brother," Boromir sighed as they knocked their goblets together in a toast, "Today, life is good," They drank gratefully, eyes never leaving the face of the other. Faramir leant against a stone pillar and smiled at his elder brother, enjoying their time together. That was, until he spotted a well known figure walking through the men further off.

"What?" Boromir asked, grinning at Faramir's face.

"He's here," Faramir answered, using his head to indicate the direction; Boromir's face fell as spotted their father making his way towards them, chatting with the soldiers.

"One moment of peace, can he not give us that?" he muttered, head down, gathering his wits about him. Faramir noted the look of exasperation, and also the look of pain; Faramir and Denethor were not known for their close relationship, and Boromir was often caught between the two.

"Where is he?" Denethor smiled at his son, "Where is Gondor's finest? Where is my first-born?"

"Father!" Boromir held his head high and plastered a smile onto his face; Faramir looked on as Denethor pulled Boromir into a tight embrace.

"They say you vanquished the enemy almost single-handedly," Denethor was pleased with his son's victory over the enemy, even more so when it meant the recovery of one of Gondor's own cities, albeit a decidedly ruined one…

"Ah, they exaggerate!" Boromir exclaimed, "The victory belongs to Faramir also!" Faramir came forward smiling; Denethor frowned.

"But for Faramir, this city would still be standing," he sneered, "Where you not entrusted to protect it?" Boromir's head lowered; he knew what was coming.

"I would have done, but our numbers were too few," Faramir knew that no matter what he said, it would not change his standing in his father's eyes; Faramir was the 'spare', the one that Denethor could palm off to any number of different commands in Gondor without a care in Arda.

"Oh, too few," Denethor's lip curled, "You let the enemy walk in and take it on a whim," Denethor advanced on his younger son and Boromir closed his eyes in hopelessness, as Faramir swallowed against his pain, "Always you cast a poor reflection upon me,"

"That is not my intent," Faramir shook his head.

"You give him no credit, and yet he tries to do your will," Boromir had had enough; he walked off into a chamber, swiftly followed by his father. Faramir stood on his own, trying to control his emotions.

"He loves you, Father-"

"Do not trouble me with Faramir; I know his uses and they are few," Denethor spoke quietly and quickly, watching as his son shook his head, "We have more urgent things to speak of," Boromir looked at his father, confused.

"Elrond of Rivendell has called a meeting," Denethor told him, "He will not say why but I have guessed its purpose. It is rumoured that the weapon of the enemy has been found…" Boromir paled visibly.

"The One Ring…" Denethor nodded; Boromir looked away, "Isildur's Bane…"

"It has fallen into the hands of the Elves, everyone will try to claim it: Men, Dwarves, Wizards - we cannot let that happen," Boromir gazed at his father in sudden understanding, "This thing must come to Gondor!"

"Gondor…" Boromir murmured, dazed; Denethor grabbed his shoulders and shook him slightly.

"It's dangerous, I know," his father hissed, "Ever the Ring will seek to corrupt the hearts of lesser Men. But you, you are strong. And our need is great. It is _our_ blood which is being spilt, _our_ people who are dying. Sauron is biding his time; he's massing fresh armies. He will return. And when he does, we will be powerless to stop him. _You_. _Must_. _Go_." He emphasised the last three words, trying to make Boromir see the importance of this mission, "Bring me back this mighty gift,"

"No…" Boromir shook his head, pushing past Denethor, "My place is here with my people, not in Rivendell!" Denethor followed.

"Would you deny your own father?" he growled.

"If there is need to go to Rivendell, send me in his stead," Faramir strode over to Boromir's side, watching his brother; there was something wrong with him, Faramir could feel it…

"You?" Denethor muttered, "Oh, I see; a chance for Faramir, Captain of Gondor, to show his quality. I think not; I trust this mission only to your brother, the one who will not fail me-"

Boromir drew in a ragged breath before suddenly leaning heavily against the wall next to him, collapsing to the ground; Faramir was next to him in a flash, checking him over.

"Stop fussing over me, I'll be fine in a min-" Boromir gasped as Faramir prodded his side, coming away with blood soaked fingers; Denethor knelt next to him.

"Why did you not go to the surgeons immediately?" he growled, glaring at his stubborn elder son, "You and your unbending pride!" Boromir shook his head.

"The men needed support, they needed their morale boost-" he hissed as Faramir lifted the chain mail away from the wound, revealing a deep, nasty looking cut as his waist; Faramir sighed.

"We have to get him to the Houses of Healing," he whispered to his father, "There is nothing any of the field surgeons can do for this," Denethor looked at him, thinking to himself.

"It will take weeks to heal," he muttered, "By which time the meeting will be over…" Faramir glanced at him, hardly daring to hope, "_You_ must go to Rivendell, and bring me back the news," Faramir's mouth dropped open slightly and Denethor smiled at him.

"Do not think me such a callous beast," he whispered to his youngest, "I do love you; it is just harder for me to show it when you look so much like her…" He was referring to Finduilas, his darling wife; passed away years ago. Faramir was the spitting image of his mother, with his fiery hair and indigo eyes; Denethor could hardly bare to look at him sometimes…

"Thank you Father…" Faramir tried to hold his emotions in check long enough for his father to see that he was genuinely thankful for this chance; everyone in Gondor believed that he was made the Commander of the Ithilien Rangers just to get him away from the Citadel. But now he could prove that he _was_ useful, that his father did love him enough to trust him.

"You must be away soon," Denethor told him, grabbing his hand, "You have only a few weeks to reach Rivendell before the meeting; do me proud…" Faramir kissed his father's hand from fealty, before standing and walking away, listening to his father calling for a stretcher to be brought.

* * *

"What happened?" Anborn asked as soon as Faramir appeared. 

"I'm being sent on a mission for Father," he answered, gathering his things together, "I won't be back for some time, so I'm leaving the care of the Rangers in your capable hands,"

Anborn stared at Faramir for a few seconds, before helping him wind his black scarf around his lower face and fasten his green cloak over the top; both were symbols of the Ranger's office, the need for camouflage great in the woods of Ithilien.

"Would you like Elmoth saddled?" the new Commander asked, as Faramir began collecting food to go into a pack; the red-head smiled beneath the scarf, knowing Anborn was loathe to see him go without protection.

"If you do not mind-"

"No bother," Anborn shrugged off the thanks that Faramir was about to give him, uncomfortable with strong emotions, and left the chamber for the stables.

Faramir looked around the small room that had been his home for the last few weeks, before shrugging his shoulders. His sword was already belted on, so he picked up his quiver of arrows and buckled it onto his back, threw his lebethron bow over his shoulder and picked up his pack, following Anborn.

Elmoth, Faramir's chestnut roan gelding was waiting patiently outside his stable when Faramir arrived, attaching his pack to the back of Elmoth's saddle. The bow was to stay by Faramir's side, even whilst in the saddle; Faramir was enough of a soldier to know when it was wise to keep a weapon handy. He put a boot in the stirrup and swung himself into the saddle with consummate ease, pulling his cloak out from underneath him.

"Good luck," Anborn was at Elmoth's head, stroking the gelding's cheek for comfort; Faramir sighed.

"You'll be fine, Anborn; don't worry," the young man looked up at the ruins of the once magnificent city, "Will you tell Father that I have gone to do his bidding for me?" The man nodded and let go of Elmoth's bridle; Faramir nudged the gelding's sides and he began walking.

"Oh, and keep an eye on Boromir for me," Faramir called back as he pulled his hood up, "You never know what that hard-headed lummox is going to do when I'm not around!" Anborn grinned.

"As you wish, my Lord," he answered, watching the Steward's youngest ride out into an uncertain future.

* * *

Phew; I was sat in front of my computer for at least two hours last night trying to type this, and now I've just done another hour of typing from 7 o'clock on a saturday morning, eating a chocolate yogurt for breakfast! _Sugar rush_! 

Hugs!

Iana XxX


	2. Elves!

Awww! Thank you so much for your kind reviews, they make me light up! And then my family wonders what's wrong and whether they should call for the 'Men in White Coats'... And I'm sorry it's took me so long to update; college homework over half-term, a queue for the computer etc...

Ithil-valon: It doesn't matter how long it takes you to review, it doesn't matter if you review at all! All that matters is the fact that you helped me settle into and kept my hopes up! _Hannon le!_

dancingkatz: Argh! I knew I'd forgotten something! Never mind, Faramir beats himself up about it in this chapter!

Mark Solo: Couldn't quite make any sense of your review but I thank you for it anyway; I'm sure you meant well.

Syntyche: I don't like coffee, so I have to make do with a really nasty sounding alarm that's on the other side of my room so I HAVE to get up out of bed to turn the thing off! If you can suggest a better title for this story, I'd be happy to consider changing it so that it sounds better; all consturctive critisism is welcome!

Susan W: The idea for this story came fromt he interview with David Wenham on the 'Return of the King' PS2 game, where he tells everybody that they should unlock the charcter of Faramir so that they can see how he would have reacted if he had been in the Fellowship instead of Boromir. It sounded liek a good idea for a story, and here it is!

Awen1923: So am I, I have no idea where this is going right now!

Time and Fate: If you believe in the story I'll try and make it as 'totally and completely awesome' as I possibly can!

Celebne: I will keep on writing, though I'm not sure how often I can update seeing as my college work is getting heavier and harder...

Sarahbarr17: Aww! Hugs to you too! I love hugs! Hugs everybody

And last but not least!

Evendim: I agree, I am much more at home in third person, I just find it harder to write sometimes! And I'm glad people like my Denethor; I don't like to portray anyone as an evil person unless they deserve it, like Saruman for example, because he was evil in the books anyway. I think Denethor is just... misguided... And hugs for you! H!

**Faramir's Chance**

**Chapter Two: Elves!**

Faramir stood huddled in his cloak under a tall oak tree, its mighty branches sheltering both him and Elmoth from the rain that was lashing down, saturating everything it touched. It was for this reason that Faramir was loathe to sit on the ground and risk getting his bottom soaked. Plus Elmoth was tired and cranky; Faramir had to rest him before setting off again and so a short break had been in order. Who wanted to travel in such despicable conditions anyway?

The man sighed, startling Elmoth, who nickered nervously. Neither man nor beast was quite used to the silence of travelling alone just yet; the refuge of Henneth Annûn wasn't exactly many people's idea of privacy… Faramir gently stroked the gelding's muzzle, whispering words of comfort, both for the horse and himself.

He should have said goodbye to Boromir; it just didn't sit right with his conscience, riding away from Osgiliath without seeing his beloved big brother one last time to make sure he was going to be alright. Faramir still couldn't wipe the memory of that horrifying wound sliced into his brother's side… He shook himself; he was being stupid. Father would have gotten Boromir to the safety of Minas Tirith as soon as Faramir had left them; only the well being of Gondor came before that of the Heir of the Steward. Faramir reached under his cloak and brought out an apple, pulled from a tree a couple of days back; he began eating the fruit, mulling over the situation in Gondor at this moment.

Denethor was Faramir's father, yes, but there were times when Faramir was sure that the stress of running the country in the King's absence was getting to his father. He just didn't seem in his right mind at times, and at others, he was far too perceptive for Faramir's liking.

Like when Faramir had asked permission to perform this mission instead of Boromir, Denethor had immediately seen through his youngest's plan. Yes, Faramir frowned, he had wanted to make his father proud of him; Denethor always gave Boromir the better part of his affections, always held him in far greater esteem that Faramir himself, even though Faramir was the one risking his life daily in the forests of Ithilien-

No. That was unfair, Faramir admitted, trying to rein in his emotions. Boromir may not have to spend days at a time sneaking around in the cold, wet undergrowth, but he did command the armies of Gondor and so was expected to join in battle alongside his soldiers. Faramir took another bite of his apple and though happy thoughts; he was determined not to fall into a depression on this journey, and then he smiled, suddenly remembering that he was going to see the Elves, and in Imladris no less! He'd wanted to meet Elves ever since he was a small child, wanted to learn their language, experience their way of life, read their history…

Only the fact that he was a thirty-five year old man stopped Faramir from jumping up and down in excitement; that and the fact that Elmoth would probably bolt, leaving him stranded here at Tharbad. He was planning on following the river Bruinen north-east to the Elven Sanctuary and without a horse, that could take a while…

Faramir laughed quietly, imagining himself trying to trudge through the Nîn-in-Eilph in the rain. Elmoth nickered again and moved to nuzzle Faramir's beard-roughened cheek; Faramir chuckled and pushed the gelding firmly away, his spirits now lifted.

"We should be moving, boy," he sighed, giving the rest of the apple to the hungry animal; Elmoth munched the fruit greedily, his ears laid back happily and Faramir took hold of the reins and led him out into the rain. The horse snorted and tried to back under the tree again, where it was dry at least. Faramir tugged the gelding out from under the tree and mounted the reluctant animal; he'd been travelling for two and a half months and was tired. He didn't want to drag this out any longer than he had to.

Faramir patted Elmoth's neck comfortingly and turned him to face upstream, gently squeezing his sides; Faramir could feel the horse take a deep breath before starting off. He pulled his hood up further, adjusted the way his quiver was resting on his shoulder and settled down for another long ride.

_Two weeks later…_

"_Elladan, nad no ennas_," -_Elladan, there's something out there_- a tall brown Elf perched on a branch in an elm tree whispered just loud enough for his brother a couple of trees back to hear; Elladan walked across the branches to his twin's side.

"_Man cenich?_" -_What do you see_?- he asked, trying to find what had alerted Elrohir; the other Elf raised his hand for silence and pointed through the leaves.

"_Tiro_," -_Look_-

A man, cloaked and hooded, rode upon a chestnut horse on the trail ahead of them, sword at his side, quiver and bow at his back. Elladan nocked an arrow from his own quiver and aimed at the man's back; Elrohir put a hand on his arm to prevent any rash acts. Their father had given warnings to all of the border patrols, warnings of strangers entering their lands, arriving for the council that Elrond had arranged. His twin sons had already met and directed a few travellers to the Last Homely House, and here was a new one. Or was he?

The Elves followed the mounted man silently through the trees until they were in front of him, watching as he carefully directed his horse around the tree roots and dangerous parts of the track. At a fork in the trail, the man halted and dismounted, moving to check out both directions before returning to horse, rummaging around in one of his saddlebags. The Elves watched curiously, wondering what the strange human was doing.

The man pulled out a loaf of bread - probably bought from one of the human villages dotted around the land - and broke off a piece, feeding it to his horse before taking a bite himself. The horse whinnied happily at the unexpected treat and nosed the man's shoulder for some more; the man chuckled and gave the horse another lump of bread. Elrohir smiled at the compassion that this man bestowed upon the animals around him; Elladan showed no emotion, just in case this man wasn't what he seemed…

"You can come out of hiding now," The man shocked both Elves by speaking directly to them, "I'd like to see my opponents face-to-face, rather than being shot down from the trees," The twins looked at each other in surprise; when was the last time a human had known they were following him? Elladan shrugged his shoulders and dropped from the trees; Elrohir followed his more impetuous brother somewhat more sedately.

The man staggered slightly as he realised that he had two Elves stood before him, not hunters as he had first thought, Elladan with his bow ready and Elrohir with his arms folded, looking quite imposing. He lowered his hood so that they could see he was not an impostor.

"_Man eneth lín_?" -_What is your name_?- Elrohir asked the man, buzzing from the tension he could feel radiating from his brother beside him. He watched as the man stroked his horse's muzzle gently, comfortingly.

"_Faramir I eneth nín_," -_My name is Faramir_- the man answered quietly, examining the brothers with his bright indigo eyes. Elrohir experienced a spark of recognition; so this was the son of the Steward of Gondor. Word had spread to Imladris of the re-taking of Osgiliath and the wounding of Boromir, the heir of the Steward. Faramir was Denethor's youngest, but apparently the more accepting of the ways of Elves out of the two sons. Elladan lowered his bow and put the arrow back into his quiver.

"_Goheno nín_," -_Forgive me_- he told Faramir, inclining his head; Faramir smiled kindly.

"_Ú-moe edaved_," -_There is nothing to forgive_- he sighed, absently rubbing the bridge of his nose; Elrohir noted the gesture and bowed to Faramir, deciding that Westron may be less taxing on the travel weary human.

"If you wish, we can lead you to Imladris," the Elf gestured to the left-hand path, "Just follow us," Faramir looked grateful and took hold of Elmoth's reins. Elrohir smiled to himself, wondering what his father would say when he learned that his sons were playing 'tour guide' with the travellers…


	3. Rivendell

Whoa... I can't believe the response to this story; it's only my third one on Why do you all like it so much? What has it got that makes it so good? 'blinks'

Anyway...

Third chapter up and running. I now have a forum for this story, as I'm looking for some ideas for the next chapter and I need some help. Look for the 'Boromir Lovers Club Forever: BCLF' forum in the LOTR section, and the 'Faramir's Chance' topic. All ideas are gratefully recieved. More info on what I'm looking for on the first post in the forum; I won't say anything here just in case it spoils the next chapter!

Evendim: Such a faithful and caring friend 'sobs' I can't believe I had the luck to review your story when I registered on here, you've made me feel so welcome! And I really appreciate you reading my work, especially when you told me you don't usually read stories. And I do beta read all of my stories myself. I never knew I could ask someone to be a beta reader... I usually find any mistakes as I read it thorough because I'm such a perfectionist, it's in my starsign! Hugs!!! Han XxX

Celebne: I just HAD to add in the twins; they were missed out in the films so they end up being in every LOTR story I write!

Mark Solo: I'm planning on making both brothers survive the War of the Ring... I just haven't figured out how yet... If you have any ideas, please let me know either by PM or in the forum! I'd be so grateful!

dancingkatz: 'Tolkien flavour'? OMG!!!! I can't believe you actually think my work is like Tolkien's!!!! That has got to be the highest praise I've EVER recieved! **EVER!!** 'faints' (And I HAVE to be kind to horses; they're my favourite animal and I just think they're absoloutely wonderful creatures. And the elvish is taken from the Council of Elrond website; very useful stuff...)

Time and Fate: 'bows' Thank you!

Sarahbarr17: I wanted to make it so that people would realise that Faramir knew the twins were there because he was a Ranger, and everyone seems to have got it! Yay! And I knew that people would link Faramir to the Elves; more of the twins in this chapter!

Awen1923: Eveyone likes the introduction to the Elves; cool! I was hoping it'd go down well.

Ithil-valon: 'Hugs' I love you guys!! You, Evendim and dancingkatz!!!! You make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside! More of Elladan and Elrohir as much as I can fit into the story, just for you! And I think I have such a good grasp of Faramir's character because I tend to be a lot like him in some ways. Reading instead of physical pursuits, soft and sensitive, yet tough and determined... Okay, enough ego inflating... 'More hugs' Thank you so much!

Susan W: Everyone loves that last chapter! The meeting with the Elves, the horse, the Elvish... I'm going to be hard pressed to keep up this level of writing! Dan and El are going to be up to mischief in the fourth chapter though...

Elfinabottle: New chapter for you to read!

Sarasrati: Just to clear it up for you, Faramir had been travelling for over two months to get to Tharbad. Two weeks on from the tree part, he meets the twins in the forest close to Rivendell. Hope that helps!

GreenTeandHoney: Oops... I didn't think of that... rats... Nevermind, it'll just make it better when Faramir does meet Eowyn for the first time. If you have any ideas on how to make Faramir fall head-over-heels in love with eowyn, head to the forum or PM me... please!

Aswen: I didn't want to make Denethor mean and Evil, I get tired of fics like that. So mine is going to be different!

Nelarun: I was hoping to project the feeling that Faramir has more knowledge of different cultures than Boromir, and this is why he's going to feel so much more comfortable on this quest. And I'm glad I could help you with your nephew!

Caet Rae: Whoa... Alert listed... Just like that... erm... Thank you!

**Faramir's Chance**

**Chapter Three: Rivendell**

_The sword passed straight through the Orc like a hot knife through butter, only a lot gorier. Faramir wrenched his sword from the carcass and turned to meet another oncoming Orc, waiting for its momentum to carry it onto his blade; it saved energy didn't it? No sense in wasting what little energy you have in driving your sword into the thing's body, when it could do all the hard work for you! Faramir smiled and the though, wondering what Boromir would think of his new theory…_

_He sighed as he killed another Orc, thinking that the sounds of battle were enough to drive a man to insanity. The cries of the Orcs grated on his nerves, the screams of the injured men tortured him, the creaking and groaning of the bridge- The bridge? Faramir looked around, noticing the puzzled expressions on the faces of the men fighting beside him; this wasn't meant to happen, was it? He slashed and stabbed his way forward, pushing through the crowd of soldiers to that blonde head on the front line. _

_His brother was… massacring… the Orcs… there was no other word for it. Left and right, the monsters fell to Boromir's sword; none could get close enough to the Captain General of Gondor to inflict but a scratch._

"_Boromir!" Faramir yelled, ducking as an Orc head came flying his way, "The bridge!" His brother couldn't hear him over the noise; he pushed his way even closer, hitting Boromir on the shoulder to get his attention… Nothing…_

"_Boromir!" Faramir stood before his brother, oblivious to the battle still raging around him; the blonde still took no notice of him, "Brother?"_

_Suddenly, the bridge gave an awkward shudder, stones grinding together as the slid around, unbalancing everyone stood upon it; Boromir stopped fighting and looked around wildly for someone._

"_Faramir?!" he cried, slicing the head from an Orc as it ran towards him, "Faramir?"_

"_I'm here!" Faramir answered, waving his hand before his brother's face, "I'm right in front of you!"_

"_Faramir!!!" Boromir yelled desperately, his face a mask of fright. Faramir went cold as he spotted a familiar looking red-head moving in their direction, but his brain refused to admit that Faramir was now looking at himself. This couldn't be happening! How could there be two of him here? It was impossible!_

"_Boromir, we must move!" the other Faramir panted, gesturing to the West bank of Osgiliath, "Now!!" Boromir nodded tiredly, grasped his brother's shoulder and pushed him back the way he had come._

"_You call the retreat," he gasped, "I'll hold the lines together," The other Faramir nodded and clasped his brother's hand in a warrior's handshake - determined to do as he asked - and ran, calling the retreat as he went._

_Faramir stood and watched in disbelief as 'he' ran away, doing exactly what he had done what must ahve been 2 months ago or more. His brother turned back, only to meet the blade of an oncoming Orc. Boromir grunted in pain before taking the life of the creature and carrying on fighting, ignoring what Faramir knew to be a potentially life-threatening wound. So this is how Boromir was injured… Faramir pondered upon this, wondering what in Eru's name was going on here…_

_But before the other Faramir could order a full retreat, the bridge gave way, plunging everyone into the icy Anduin. Screams rent the air as Orcs and men alike hit the surface. The Orcs that couldn't swim, drowned, left to die by their allies. Most of the soldiers were covered in plate armour which pulled them down into the water, friends unable to help as they were in the same situation._

_Faramir had managed to hang onto the edge of the bridge, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the unyielding rock. But he wasn't strong enough, and fell…_

Faramir hit the floor with a loud 'thud' and a yell, his bed sheets tangled around his legs and body as he struggled to get up. He gave up trying to free himself and just lay there getting his breath back; he felt as if he'd just run the seven level of Minas Tirith without stopping…

Why was he dreaming about Osgiliath now? Why not before he'd left? Or during his journey here, to Rivendell? Faramir shuddered as he remembered Boromir's injury; how could he have not noticed his brother in pain? Then he berated himself; after falling into the river, he, Boromir and the other two survivors were too busy dragging themselves out of the water and retreating to worry about who was bleeding or not. Tears sprang to Faramir's eyes as he recalled the bodies left in and beside the river. There had been too many for four of them to try and return them to their loving families in the city. The most they could do was offer a prayer to the Valar for them and observe a minutes silence… A minute that nearly killed Faramir, stood staring at the bodies, there being no other place to look.

The door to his room slammed open as Lord Elrond's twin sons came running in, swords drawn.

"What happened?" the one on the left asked - Faramir was guessing it was Elrohir, looking at the long braid that hung on the left of his head - "We heard you cry out,"

Elrohir had formed a sort of bond with Faramir, liking his quick wit, personality and compassionate nature. The twins had actually felt comfortable enough to talk to this human on the journey home, slipping into Elvish every now and then to test his knowledge of their language. Faramir had surprised both of them, calling to them in the trees; never before had anyone knew when the twins were tracking them. But Faramir's explanation had peaked their curiosity; no one had ever mentioned a group of Rangers living in Ithilien before… And so Faramir had described Henneth Annûn to them, making sure to add in all of the rather gruesome details, like the wearing of damp clothes practically all of the time, the 'mystery meat' in the stew… The living in caves part made the Elves grimace and shudder as they realised what this Ranger had to put up with for the good of his country.

Faramir shook his head and began finding his way out of the bed sheets, undoing the knots that must have been made as he tossed and turned during the night.

"I had a nightmare, that's all," he answered Elrohir's query, standing up triumphantly, the bedclothes clutched in his hand, "I must have shocked both of you, I'm sorry," The twins slid their swords back into their scabbards, frowning; nightmares were not uncommon to them, and they wondered what his had been about, wondering if they could possibly help him.

They moved forward and took the bedclothes from Faramir's hands and proceeded to show him how to put them back on the bed neatly; Erestor would have a fit if he saw the bed in this mess, and they didn't want the new guy getting into trouble… yet…

"Thank you," Faramir sighed in relief; the way the Elves dressed the bed was totally different to how it was done in Minas Tirith. The only bed Faramir usually had to make was his small pile of sleeping furs in Henneth Annûn, and they didn't really require much messing around with.

"No problem!" Elladan smiled, "We want to keep Erestor on our good side for a while anyway," Faramir grinned, not even asking what they were planning. As long as he wasn't a part of it, nothing could be blamed upon him and he couldn't get into trouble. From the quick audience he had had with Lord Elrond after arriving, he did not look like the type of person to tolerate childish behaviour…

"Why don't you get dressed, then we'll take you down to the break of fast," Elrohir suggested quietly, shooting his brother a warning glance; Faramir noticed the look but kept quiet.

"Thank you," he nodded his head, "I'd be grateful for that; I've got a feeling I'm going to get lost in here…" The Elves smiled and left the room to let him dress and wash.

"He could be a useful ally…" Elladan mused, leaning against the wall outside Faramir's room; Elrohir look at him.

"We can't get him into _too_ much trouble," he told his brother, "Besides, it'd be fun to be friends with another mortal," Elladan grinned.

"Okay, but when should we introduce him to Erestor? And how?" Elrohir noticed the mischievous grin on his brother's face.

"Not yet," he replied, smirking, "We'll have to be subtle-" He closed his mouth as Faramir opened the door to his room and stepped out, closing it behind him.

"Ready?" Elladan asked, and Faramir smiled. The twins shared a grin before leading the man away for some food.

SO... What do you think? Is it as good as the last chapter? Or should I have put some more Elvish in? Let me know and I'll try and make the next chapter as good as I possibly can! Whilst applying for uni at the same time!

Iana XxX


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